


Welcoming You Home

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Star Trek Bingo 2020 [24]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: 3+1 fic, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Interspecies Relationship(s), Kid Fic, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Other, Weddings, first crushes, i hope you love them too, i love the soong-yar children even if theyre only in my head, just a ridiculous amount of fluff, no one in this family is straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Three times a Soong-Yar introduced their partner to their parents.
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar, Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Series: Star Trek Bingo 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875274
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	Welcoming You Home

**Author's Note:**

> For the bingo prompt "meeting the parents." I've had the idea for the Soong-Yar kids in my head for a long time, and it's nice to finally write something where they get to be major players. Hopefully this is as cute to other people as it is to me.

1)

Tatum Soong-Yar was twelve years old the first time she brought home a girl. Calling it ‘bringing her home’ might have been overstating the matter – living on a starship meant that ‘home’ was relatively close to every other part of her life – but to a young Tatum, this marked a significant step in her development. Dawn was Tatum’s first girlfriend, and bringing her back to her family’s quarters for a shared family meal was an important milestone in her social growth.

Prior to bringing her home, Tatum had done her best to prepare Dawn for meeting her family. It was common knowledge amongst her class that Tatum’s parents were senior bridge officers on the _Enterprise_ , serving as chief of security in the case of her mother and second officer, chief science officer, and chief of operations in the case of her father. Of course, it wasn’t their positions that made her family unusual. No one had teased Tatum for her father being third in command of the _Enterprise_. They had teased her because he was a machine.

The first time it had happened, Tatum had gotten in trouble for the two missing teeth, sprained wrist, and cracked ribs that the bully in question had suffered. Her parents had apologized to the teacher for the altercation, and made her do the same, but when they’d gotten home, her mother had hugged her tight and called her a good girl. Tatum’s father had been more hesitant to express approval, but when he came in to kiss her goodnight, he had thanked her quietly for her defense of him.

Kids learned quickly to not call Lieutenant Command Data a robot, or any other derogatory term, anywhere his eldest daughter could hear.

Dawn hadn’t been put off by the fact that Tatum’s father was an artificial life form. She was smart, sweet, and cute, and every time Tatum looked at her, her heart would flutter in her chest. When Tatum had been a little younger, her father had read fairytales to her before bed. While he had cautioned her that such stories were often overly simplistic, he had also admitted there was much merit to the lessons gained from them. Regardless, Tatum was confident this had been what the stories meant when they described ‘love at first sight.’

She squeezed Dawn’s hand tight before they entered the Soong-Yar family quarters together. She’d informed her parents the night before that she would like to bring someone home for dinner, and they had agreed. Tatum had brought friends over before, as had the twins, but this was going to be different. It was going to be special.

Her father looked up when they entered, smiling at them as he straightened up from the table. “Dawn. It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“Thank you for having me, sir.”

“Of course.” Her father turned towards Tatum. “Your mother will be home in a minute. Could you wash your hands and tell the twins it is time to eat?”

“Sure.” Tatum tugged Dawn’s hand, gesturing down the hall. She stuck her head in Lyra’s room when she passed. “Hey. Dad says it’s dinnertime.”

Lyra didn’t look up from her book. “Be out in a second.”

Tatum called the same to Aletris down the hall. Unlike his sister, he stood immediately, setting aside the PADDs he’d been doing his homework on to join them in the dining area. By the time Tatum’s mother walked through the door, still in her gold uniform and looking a little harried even as she kissed her husband’s cheek, the kids had all managed to find a spot around the table. “I’ll be right there,” she said, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Dawn glanced at Tatum in concern, but Tatum just shrugged.

Her mother looked significantly more relaxed by the time she joined them. “Sorry,” she said. “It was a stressful shift. We’re running drills today, and the newcomers are having trouble keeping up.”

“I am certain you will have them whipped into shape in no time,” Tatum’s father said. It made her mother smile as she picked up her fork to dig in.

Dinner itself was fine. Tatum had expected it to feel monumental somehow, but aside from a sense of warmth in her stomach every time she shared a look with Dawn across the table, there was nothing particularly sensational about it. After the meal, Aletris excused himself to begin violin practice, with their father following to supervise. Lyra drifted back to her bedroom and her book, and Tatum walked Dawn to the door, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and squeezing her hand before letting her girlfriend out. She turned back to her mother, who was putting the empty dishes back into the replicator. “So? What did you think?”

Her mother paused. “Sweetheart, I’ve met Dawn before. She’s a very nice girl. You should bring your friends over more often.”

Tatum frowned. “No, I mean, what do you think of her as my girlfriend?”

Her mother choked, a hand flying to her chest as her eyes widened. “Girlfriend?”

“Yes. I informed you and Dad that I would be bringing home ‘someone special’ for dinner tonight. I assumed you would infer that meant a significant other.”

“Tatum, sweetheart, you’re twelve years old.” Her mother turned, finishing loading the dishes back into the replicator for recycling. She rested her hands against it, and then turned back, taking a seat on the sofa and patting the spot beside her. “Sit down.”

Tatum sat, still frowning as she folded her hands in her lap. Her mother looked like she was chewing on something, her lips pursed. Finally, she said, “I’m glad you were willing to introduce your girlfriend to your father and me. But don’t you think you might be a little young for dating?”

“It is an important milestone for most developing teens,” Tatum pointed out. “Dad even said that ten to twelve years old is approximately when many people start to identify their first ‘crush.’”

“He did, did he?” Her mother’s lips twisted into a wry smile, and she glanced down the hall, towards where the opening strains of violin music were drifting down the hall. She looked back to Tatum. “Well, if your father said it, it’s probably right.” She sighed. “I just don’t want you to rush things, okay? You’re still a kid. There’s so much left for you to experience.” She ruffled Tatum’s hair. “I had to grow up way too fast. I don’t want the same thing happening to you.”

Tatum knew her mother got sad sometimes. She didn’t like to talk about her own childhood. Tatum knew she had grown up in a place called Turkana, that it had broken away from the Federation and that it had been a bad place for a kid to grown up, but she hadn’t been able to find out much more about it. She had never been willing to ask. Not when it made her mother sad.

“I understand,” she said. Her mother wrapped an arm around her, and Tatum leaned into her side. “I like Dawn. I don’t want to break up with her.”

“I’m not saying you have to. Your father and I want you to be happy. Just…make sure you’d still being a kid too, okay?” She kissed the top of Tatum’s head. “Now go on. You’ve got aikido in the morning before school.”

“Yes, Mom.” Tatum slid off the sofa, wandering back in the direction on her bedroom. When her father came to tuck her in, Tatum asked, “Am I too young to be having a relationship?”

Her father paused, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Your mother informed me of your conversation.” He hesitated. “At twelve years old, it is not unreasonable for you to want to explore certain feelings. But your cognitive capabilities are also not fully developed. You are, in essence, still very much a child. I would urge you to be cautious, and I hope you are willing to speak to your mother or myself about these feelings.” He brushed a lock of Tatum’s hair back out of her face. Tatum had heard her father called unexpressive before, but she couldn’t imagine ever not seeing the love in his eyes. “For what it is worth,” he told her, “your mother and I like Dawn very much. I am glad you are able to have a bond with someone like her, no matter the form.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Her father kissed her forehead, then dimmed the lights in her room. At twelve years old, Tatum had started to feel a little old for such things. She was maturing, after all, on the path to becoming a young woman in her own right. But as she tugged the blanket up to her chin, snuggling into the pillows, Tatum had to admit, there were benefits to being a child a little while longer.

2)

Lyra Soong-Yar had known that studying medicine would leave little time for anything else. She’d heard the jokes that med students didn’t _have_ much of a life outside of school, and she’d been willing to put in the work. But still. She hadn’t expected it to be quite this bad.

She flopped down onto her bed with a groan loud enough to make Parisa look up from the pile of textbooks spread out on the floor, most of them open and stacked two-high in a semi-circle around the Romulan. They quirked an eyebrow. “Everything alright?”

“My sister’s getting married,” she told them. She’d received the communication a few minutes ago, and wasn’t that just like Tatum? Time hadn’t tempered her much. She was only three years older than Lyra and had rushed through Starfleet Academy, already making junior-grade lieutenant on a starship even though Lyra was barely halfway through her own studies. But that was Tatum; brash as their mother and twice as willing to take risks. Sometimes, being the levelheaded sibling was a real drag.

“Congratulations to your sister,” Parisa told her. They stood up and stretched, cracking their neck and tucking a stray hair back into place. The traditional Romulan bob cut they’d sported when Lyra had first met them had since grown out into something a little longer, and Lyra had started to notice the loose curl to their hair when it came down from its neat little bun.

Lyra huffed, dropping back again to stare up at the ceiling. “She and Gemma were off and on again the whole time they were at the Academy. It just…seems a little rushed, is all. _And_ she’s scheduled it right after finals. I’d have to leave day-of just to make it in time.”

Parisa took a seat on their bed, hands folded in their lap. “On Romulus, bonding is done largely for political reasons. But, then, I suppose your sister is too human to take a mistress.”

Lyra goggled, but Parisa’s eyebrow remained firmly in place. After a minute, the Romulan broke, the smallest smile creeping onto their face. Lyra laughed. “No,” she said. “No, Tatum isn’t really the ‘mistress’ type.” She turned onto her side, tucking her arm under her head as she looked at Parisa. “Is that really how it works there?”

Parisa shrugged. “Romulans are a people of passion. It is common to take many lovers, but that gives them no spousal rights. Those are reserved for bonded pairs only, and bonded pairs are usually bonded for matters of state.”

It sounded kind of sad, but Lyra didn’t say that. She swallowed. “So, your family…?” Parisa spoke of them so rarely that Lyra was hesitant to bring them up.

But apparently it was alright, because Parisa answered the question with ease. “My parents left the Romulan Empire for love. My mother was promised to another man, to secure political ties with his family. She did not want anyone besides my father, but they would not have been able to remain together had they stayed. So they came here.” Parisa cocked their head, considering. “I suppose I take after them in many respects.”

“Oh?”

They nodded. “I find my passions…singularly diverted.”

Lyra flushed at weight of the stare they leveled at her. She picked at the bedspread. “For medicine?”

“Do not be naïve, my friend. It does not suit you.”

Her blush deepened. Parisa had been her first friend in medical school. She’d picked them out of a crowd, almost mistaking them for a Vulcan before the forehead ridges had clued her in. Befriending them had been deliberate; it had been clear that no one else in their class was quite willing to get so close to a Romulan. But Lyra knew what it was like to be ostracized because of your family. The two of them had become close over the past few years. The crush felt new, but it wasn’t a surprise. That Parisa returned her affections was…nerve-wracking.

She pushed herself into a seated position, crossing her legs and wrapping her fingers tight around her ankles. “It wasn’t sure what to say,” she admitted. “I’ve never had a real relationship before.”

“Nor have I.” Parisa stood, crossing to Lyra’s bed and taking her hands in theirs. “I am not asking thee to bond with me in the ways of my people. Not yet. But I would take you as my mate, should you be willing.”

Lyra’s breath hitched. She tilted her head up to look at Parisa, who studied her eyes for a moment before placing a hand on either one of Lyra’s cheeks and bending down to kiss her. Lyra gasped into it, melting under the touch as her best friend, her roommate, the only person she’d ever really felt a connection to, slipped against her mind. Romulan telepathy wasn’t as strong as Vulcan, but she could feel Parisa’s mind seeking entrance, and she allowed it without reservation. The easy slide of consciousness was almost like coming home.

Parisa pulled away, just as breathless. They swallowed, and stepped back. “That is how humans do it, correct?”

“Yeah,” Lyra managed. “That’s how we kiss.” Clumsily, she offered out two fingers, unsure if that was Romulan as well as Vulcan – she knew Parisa’s hands were as sensitive as their Vulcan classmates’ but that didn’t necessarily mean…

Parisa reshaped her fingers slightly, and then slid their own against hers.

When Lyra RSVPed to her sister’s wedding, she marked down a plus one, and she didn’t answer any of the comms that Tatum or her mother had sent her in response to it. Tatum and Gemma had managed to swing shore leave on Earth for the ceremony, so after finals were over Lyra and Parisa made the dash to the transporter booth that would take them to the venue, not far from the house her parents kept on Earth. They turned up, Lyra slightly out of breath and Parisa without a hair out of place, half an hour before the ceremony and just in time for Lyra’s mother to whisk her away to get changed into something that wasn’t basically sweatpants, leaving Parisa behind with her father.

“A Romulan, huh?” was all her mother said about it. Lyra had shrugged, and helped Tatum straighten her dress uniform.

Her father approached her during the reception, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. “I apologize for not saying hello before. Things have been hectic here.”

“It’s fine, Dad.”

He cocked his head. “How did finals go?”

“Good, I think?” She hesitated, biting her lip. “Are you…going to ask about Parisa?”

Her father blinked. “You wrote about them in several of your communications. You two seem quite fond of each other, and Parisa has told me that you intend to pursue a relationship.”

“Well…yeah.” Lyra glanced across the room, where Parisa and her mother were talking. Based on their body language, Lyra couldn’t tell who seemed more tense. She looked back to her father. “Is that okay?”

“Why would it not be okay?”

“Well, they’re…Romulan.” Lyra winced as she said it. “And I brought them to Tatum’s wedding, even though we’ve barely been together a month, and-“

“Your sister planned her wedding on a complete spur of the moment,” her father interrupted her. “Tatum and Gemma have had an equally unpredictable relationship. You have always been more dependable, consistent.”

Lyra grimaced, but her father took her hands. “I am not saying this is a detriment to you. Nor am I attempting to shame your sister. I am merely attempting to point out that you both live your lives in different ways. You may be concerned that your relationship with Parisa is premature, but you two have known each other for years. You are very close, emotionally. There is nothing wrong with wishing to explore that bond.” He tilted his head. “Do you love them?”

Lyra hesitated, and then nodded. “Yeah. I think I do.”

“Then I am glad to have met them, and I would like to get to know them better.” He smiled. “As for them being Romulan, I do not foresee that being an issue. I have known many Romulans. They are…a passionate people.”

Lyra blushed. “That’s what Parisa said.”

“Excuse me.” Father and daughter looked up to see the Romulan in question offering their hand out to Lyra as the music shifted into a classically slow song. “May I have this dance?”

Lyra glanced back at her father, who smiled. “I think I will join your mother.” He let the two of them alone, and Lyra allowed herself to be swept out onto the dance floor, pulled tight into Parisa’s arms.

Into her ear, Parisa murmured, “Your mother appears unsure what to make of me. It seems she was under the impression that I would be human.”

“I never told her that, I swear.”

“I believe you.” Parisa smiled at her, small and sly and very Romulan, their eyes bursting with affection. “I believe I am going to look forward to getting to know your family. Your parents are…very interesting people.”

Over Parsia’s shoulder, Lyra watched her sister laugh and twirl her new wife, and her parents dancing in a corner together away from it all. She couldn’t see Aletris – no doubt he was hiding somewhere – but that was all par for the course. “They’re something, alright,” she murmured. “And I think they’re going to really love you.”

3)

Aletris Soong-Yar was an anxious mess, and always had been, at least as far as he could remember. It was funny; out of his siblings, bold Tatum and reserved Lyra, Aletris had always felt a little…out of place. Tatum was so like their mother, strong-willed and determined, never ready to give in without a fight. Lyra favored their father, rational and calm, prepared to observe a scenario from all facets before making an objective statement. Aletris…he played violin like his father, but that was, he felt, the extent of their similarities. He loved his parents, desperately, but he couldn’t help but wonder on occasion if they had been disappointed that their third child had turned out as he had.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he worried aloud, pacing back and forth across the room in distress. It was really too hot for the exertion, deep into the Vulcan summer, but he couldn’t help it. The sweating was a tolerable tradeoff for his pent-up energy. It had to be released somehow.

Sitting cross-legged on the cushions surrounding their low living room table, Talok did not stir beyond the raising of an eyebrow. “Your parents will be here momentarily. It is a little late to be having second thoughts.”

“Yes, but…” Aletris huffed, wiping desperately at his forehead. He paused by the window, peering out into the street beyond, still bouncing on the balls of his feet. He groaned, burying his head in his hands. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“On what facts have you based this conclusion?”

“What if they don’t like you?” Aletris resumed the pacing.

Talok leaned out of his way. “I see no reason for your parents to disapprove of me. Did you have a particular concern, or was it a more general conclusion?”

“What?” Aletris paused, blinking, and then the anxiety redoubled, crashing against him. “No!” he rushed out. “It’s not you, you’re perfect, I love you, I just-“

“Peace, ashayam.” Talok unfolded himself, pushing himself gradually into a standing position. “Do you remember the technique I taught you?”

Automatically, Aletris closed his eyes. He pictured an ocean, the one on Elmadii IV that his parents had brought them to when he’d been seven. It had been deep and vast and green, the waters turbulent but silent because of some property of the atmosphere. He pictured himself atop it, two fingers tapping in a slow, alternating rhythm across his palm. Gradually, he was able to calm the waters, bringing himself back to center. He opened his eyes.

Talok was waiting, patient. The tiniest quirk appeared on his lips when Aletris released his breath. “Do you feel better?”

Aletris nodded. “I’m okay.” He took in another deep breath, and released it. “It’s going to be okay, right? I’ve told them so much about you…”

Talok tipped his head in acknowledgement. “It will be good to finally meet your parents. It is customary to acquire their permission before a betrothal bond is formed.”

The panic in Aletris’s stomach made a valiant second surge. He reminded himself of the ocean, forcing himself to sit down beside his partner. “You really think we’re ready for that?”

Talok raised an eyebrow. “I will remind you that I was betrothed at seven years old, to a girl I did not know. Had I not determined my sexual orientation lay elsewhere, I would still be bonded to T’Prana, and I know little more about her than her name. On the other hand, we have been engaged in romantic relations for three years. I know your mind as intimately as I know my own. Unless your intent is to terminate our relationship, I would feel more comfortable forming a betrothal bond with you, so that when my Time comes, I will be drawn to your side.”

Talok had a way of making everything seem so rational. True, that tended to be an innate trait of Vulcan’s anyway, but it was one of the reasons Aletris loved him. Slowly, he nodded. It wasn’t like he didn’t want it, like they hadn’t spoken about it at length. The preliminary bonding made sense.

There was the sound of an aircar pulling to a stop outside, and Aletris jerked to his feet. “That’s them.”

Talok joined him, placing a careful hand on Aletris’s elbow. “It will be alright, ashayam. You will see.”

Aletris’s mother hugged him the moment she walked through the door, squeezing tight enough that his chest felt ready to burst. He hugged his back, tucking his face into her blonde hair and just breathing. “Hi Mom.”

“It’s been too long,” she murmured, releasing him with a smile. “I knew the VSA would keep you busy, but I wouldn’t mind a call every now and then.” She fanned herself. “Well, all I can say is, the expression ‘hot as Vulcan’ is very apt.”

Aletris’s father was, as expected, completely unbothered by the heat. Android temperature control must have been nice. He too drew Aletris into a hug. When he let go, he kept his hand on Aletris’s shoulder, his eyes scanning up and down, as if cataloguing changes. “You look good.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I brought my violin. I was hoping we might get the chance to play together while I was here.”

Aletris smiled, and a little more tension in him released. “I’d like that.”

He glanced back towards the living room doorway, where Talok stood in wait, and gestured his parents in. “Mom, Dad, this is Talok.”

Talok offered up a ta’al, inclining his head in respect. “Commander. I have read your papers on probability mechanics. I am a great admirer of your work.”

His father looked surprised, but pleasantly so. He returned the ta’al without difficulty. “Aletris mentioned some of the theories you have been researching. I would be interested to hear more about it.”

“Certainly. When I have a moment, I will bring you some of our preliminary reports.” 

They took a seat. Behind his back, Aletris tapped his fingers against the floor. In a surprising gesture, he felt Talok cover his wrist with a gentle hand. He glanced towards his boyfriend, but the Vulcan appeared unperturbed, engaging Aletris’s mother in a question about Federation-Romulan diplomacy politics. His throat clenched when Talok said, “I understand Aletris’s twin is bonded to a Romulan.”

His mother nodded, laughing a little. “It wasn’t what I expected, but Parisa is lovely. And if they make Lyra happy, well, who am I to complain?”

Talok shot Aletris a pointed glance, and Aletris got the message. He cleared his throat. “That’s…actually kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Why I asked you here.”

His father cocked his head, and his mother raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” she said.

Aletris nodded. “I…wanted you to get a chance to meet Talok. You know we’ve been together awhile now, and we were thinking…” He trailed off, his mouth dry.

Talok took over. “I would like your son to be my bondmate.”

His mother’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Talok nodded. “The bond would be preliminary until my Time, when we would fulfil it in a traditional ceremony. We have determined we will have a human one as well, when the time comes, so you need not worry if you cannot attend initially.”

“You seem very prepared,” Aletris’s father remarked.

“Thank you, sir.” Aletris could recognize the mild hints in Talok’s tone. He was pleased. “As bonding is traditionally done at the arrangement of the parents, I wished to meet you, to acquire your permission, before Aletris and I proceeded.”

“Oh!” His mother looked surprised. Pleased, but surprised. She glanced at Aletris’s father. “Well, you don’t need our permission. But you have it, of course you do.” Aletris’s father nodded, and she continued, “We’ve never seen Aletris like he is with you. He’s always been…such a nervous boy. We love him, and we’ve done our best to make sure he knows, but…” She shrugged, a touch helplessly, her voice hopelessly fond. “No one’s ever been able to calm him the way you seem to.”

Something warm coiled in Aletris’s stomach. He didn’t think it was coming from his skin contact with Talok. “Talok makes me happy,” he said softly. “When I’m with him…I don’t worry so much.”

“Then it is only logical to cultivate your relationship,” his father said. There was a gentleness to his voice, something like love and relief. “It is good you have found someone so good for you.”

And for once, everything tense and nervous in Aletris quieted. He smiled at his father. “Thanks, Dad.” As his father turned back to Talok, questioning him again about his field of study, Aletris leaned into the Vulcan, who shifted to better support his weight. He wondered, vaguely, what he’d been so worried about in the first place.

+1)

Data and Tasha Soong-Yar (well. Only one of them had both names on paper) were officially retired. It had taken into their sixties to do it, and even then, it was only because there was only so much modern medicine could do. Tasha could still kick ass when she needed to, but she wasn’t as spry as she’d been in her twenties and thirties. She’d wanted a chance to enjoy the strength and flexibility she had left for something other than training cadets in the security track. She and Data had given a lot of years to Starfleet. They’d loved it, but it was time to give a little back to themselves.

And the house was lovely. They’d debated remaining on Earth, but there really hadn’t been much need. Only one of their kids still lived there, and since the other two were grounded on Vulcan and tied to a starship respectively, location was down to them. The system they’d settled in was roughly halfway between Earth and Vulcan, and the planet was gorgeous, full of lush forests and beautiful rivers. They had a little cabin all to themselves, perfect for two people.

Which meant that fitting in eight was no easy task.

“One of these days, we need to sit down and actually build a guest house,” Tasha groused good-naturedly as she made up the sofa into a bed. “How hard can it be?”

“A construction project would be a considerable undertaking,” Data pointed out from across the room. “Perhaps after the snows this year.”

“Mmm,” Tasha hummed in agreement. She stepped back, dusting her hands off, and looked around. “I think that’s everything.” She clicked her tongue. “Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?”

Data crossed the room to her, smiling affectionately as he pulled her into his arms. “Everything is perfect,” he told her. “We have places for the kids to sleep, and if they really want to complain then they can rough it outside. The weather is supposed to be beautiful tonight. A sky full of stars.”

Tasha nudged him, grinning. “Don’t get romantic on me, or we’ll never make it to the shuttle depo on time.”

“I would not dream of it.”

They did, in fact, make it to the shuttle depo with time to spare. Tatum shrieked in delight when she caught sight of her parents, launching herself at them and tackling Data in a full-body hug that would have knocked any biological humanoid to the ground. He barely budged, rocking back on his heels just enough to cushion the impact as he caught her, tucking his nose into her curls and hugging her tight. Gemma smiled, serene on the heels of her wife, and gave Tasha a much gentler hug of greeting. Aletris and Talok had a much more reserved greeting, and Data was pleased to see his son barely fidgeting, grinning broadly and sneaking affectionate glances towards his bondmate every so often. It reminded Data of how he and Tasha had been at that age. Aletris had all of Tasha’s energy and all of Data’s heart. He had grown up beautifully, and even though Data and Tasha were more than willing to accommodate Talok with a ta’al instead of a hug, Data still hugged his son just shy of breathless. Over his shoulder, he could see Tasha smile.

By the time Lyra and Parisa arrived, the high suns were melting into the afternoon. “So sorry,” Lyra apologized as she gave each of her parents half a hug. “The shuttle got delayed coming in. Ion storm.”

“You’re here now,” Tasha said, beaming. “That’s all that matters.” She took Parisa’s arm, and the Romulan quirked an eyebrow at their bondmate, then at Data, before allowing their mother-in-law to shepherd them off in the direction of the house. Data didn’t think any of the family – Lyra included – had predicted just how well Tasha would get along with Parisa. It filled Data with warmth, and he fell into step with the rest of his family as they headed back towards the house, Tatum chattering to Talok, who listened with interest, while Gemma and the twins caught up.

Crowding around the dinner table would have been too much, so they ate outdoors. Data and Tasha had spent a few weeks earlier in the year fashioning a seating area, splitting logs for benches and laying the stonework. Data had to admit, his wife looked gorgeous wielding an axe. Of course, he always thought Tasha looked gorgeous, but even so.

“We should do this more often,” Aletris murmured, licking desert off his fingers while his Vulcan bondmate looked pleasantly scandalized. The suns were going down fully now, stars just beginning to dot up the darkening sky. The quiet night air washed around them, peaceful and cool.

“We should,” Tatum agreed. She nudged Gemma with her shoulder. “We’ve got some proper shore leave coming up in about a year. Nearly a month. Maybe we could spend some of it here.” She grinned at her parents. “If you’re willing to put us up that long.”

“You’re always welcome,” Tasha said instantly. She glanced at Data, who understood. Perhaps a guest house really was in order. He smiled. He loved his daughter, but her exuberance did often come with broken glassware.

“I could probably get a little leave,” Aletris said. He glanced towards Talok. “Your paper’s getting published next year, isn’t it? That should give you some time off.”

Talok nodded. “Spending it here could be agreeable.” He glanced at Data. “Of course, I would like to hear your thoughts on the publication.”

“Of course,” Data agreed, even as Tasha laughed, wrapping her arm around his waist and squeezing.

“No shop talk at the table,” she scolded, but it was eased by the affection in her voice.

They all turned towards Lyra and Parisa. Lyra flushed, glancing at her bondmate, who blinked back at her, one eyebrow raised, a hint of a smile quirking their lips. “I believe we can make time next year,” Parisa said, and there was amusement in their voice. “We will certainly have the time off from work.”

“Oh?” Tasha leaned into Data, but she was watching her daughter. “I thought things were going well at Starfleet Medical?”

“They are!” Lyra said quickly. She gave her bondmate a sharp look, one that had Data cocking his head curiously. She blushed again. “It’s just that, well, next year I’ll be getting some maternity leave. We’re, um, going to be parents.”

There was a moment of quiet, and then the bursts of ‘congratulations!’ showered out across the space. Data stayed put, stunned, even as Aletris and Tatum descended on their sister, hugging her tightly while Parisa leaned away, clearly amused, and Tasha lunged towards them, sweeping all of her kids into one bundle as she gushed over them.

When they settled, Lyra looked to Data, who still hadn’t moved. “Dad?”

“You are having a baby.”

Lyra shifted. Tasha shot Data a questioning glance, a hint of concern on her face. Data felt a little like his processors had overloaded, but there was no short in his system. He blinked. “I am going to be a grandfather.”

Tasha laughed, and it broke through the tension. She squeezed Lyra, and joked, “I think you broke your father.”

Lyra laughed too. “Please! I’m just shocked Tatum didn’t beat me to it!”

Tatum let out a mock cry of outrage, breaking into a spirited argument with her sister, voices rising as Aletris and Parisa joined in, egging the others on. Tasha took a seat next to Data, nudging him gently. “Hey. You okay?”

He was going to be a grandfather. Data had fought so hard to get his children, to raise them the way they deserved. He had his wife, the woman he loved more than life itself, standing forever by his side. And his children were starting to have children of their own. Biological or adopted, using surrogates or donors, it didn’t matter. Those children would be family.

“I am fine,” Data said softly, and smiled. Everything was fine.

Everything was perfect.


End file.
